


rose

by PaintedVanilla



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dinner, Dorks in Love, F/M, Fluff, Nervousness, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Valentine's Day, i died writing this that's how fluffy it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 23:33:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13669614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaintedVanilla/pseuds/PaintedVanilla
Summary: "You are a mess, but you're a cute mess."





	rose

**Author's Note:**

> so i wanted to be like, Accurate and have Thomas and Martha get married on the same day they did in real life. And that was January 1? A strange day to do it, but in that case this fic is literally WEEKS after James and Dolley started dating. Like, maybe five.

“I thought we had agreed on no gifts.” James says when he lets Dolley in his apartment; she’s holding a box that’s flat and wide with a card and a yellow rose taped to the top.

“I don’t remember that conversation,” Dolley says innocently, “but  _ you  _ offered to be in charge of food and  _ I  _ got you a gift so that is very much a gift exchange.”

“Well, thank you.” James says closing the door, “but I hesitate to take it, I’m - ”

“Allergic to flowers.” Dolley predicts, plucking the rose off the top of the box, “that’s why it’s a fake. It will always be good and it will not make you sneeze.”

She hands him the fake rose and he takes it, “You’re very good at this.”

“My brain never retained anything I learned in a math class so I could use the space to remember things about you.” Dolley tells him lightly.

James laughs a little bit, “Thank you.” he says again, and then gives her a chaste kiss, “I would put this in water but I don’t want to ruin it. It would also be pointless. And I don’t have a vase because I’m normally allergic, so,” he tucks the fake flower behind her ear, “I will put it here for safekeeping and to make you look even prettier than usual.”

Dolley is blushing so hard she can’t respond to him, so he continues, “Also, I’m sorry, because I was actually planning on trying to cook dinner, but I’m bad at doing that and it made me nervous so I procrastinated figuring out what to make and then it was like an hour before now and I was like oh god I’m terrible, so I just went and bought food because I’m the worst, and in hindsight I probably should have gotten you something while I was out because you got me a gift and I forgot to even ask you if we were doing gifts and I didn’t even get you flowers.”

“You got me food and that has the exact same value to me as a gift.” Dolley assures him, “so you are not the worst. In fact I would say you’re the best.”

“Although,” James says, “While I was at the diner I got you a milkshake because you said you’d never had one. It’s in the freezer.”

“So you got me two presents.” Dolley says, setting the box down on the table and following him into the kitchen, “yet again providing more evidence that you are the best.”

“I wouldn’t say the best.” James says, opening the freezer and pulling the plastic cup out, “I didn’t get you vanilla even though I know you like it. I got you chocolate - I hope that’s okay?”

“Chocolate is very okay.” Dolley says, “I only get vanilla every time because it’s the plainest option. And probably the cheapest, sometimes, compared to the flavors that have like a thousand different candies in them.”

“You’re missing out.” James says, handing her the cup, “wouldn’t you like to put your favorite candy in an ice cream?”

“I don’t really eat candy.” Dolley says, then takes a sip of the milkshake, “thus marks my eighth scoop of ice cream ever.”

“You’re going to lose count eventually.” James says, turning away and making his way towards the oven to get the food out; he’d left it there to keep it warm.

“I hope so,” Dolley says, setting the cup down on the counter, “if you keep making me eat it I’m going to start feeling guilty about how many times I’ve counted up.” she pauses while he pulls the take out containers from the oven, “where are your plates?”

“Oh, we don’t need plates.” James says as he sets the containers down, “if you rip off the top part and then just set the bottom inside of it, it’s a pretty strong plate to eat on. And they gave us little plastic silverware so,” he pauses, seeming to catch himself, then he looks back at her, “Sorry.” he says, “I’m used to eating by myself. I doubt eating pasta with a plastic fork out of a plastic container sounds very romantic.”

“I could argue that point.” Dolley tells him with a smile.

“We can use plates.” James says, “or bowls. Do you eat pasta in bowls? Or on a plate?”

“We can use the container.” Dolley assures him, “I really don’t mind.”

“Would it destroy the Valentine’s Day aesthetic?” James asks.

“What is the Valentine’s Day aesthetic?” Dolley counters.

“I don’t know,” James says, “like, roses and stuff? And like, really fancy dinners? Hallmark movies? This doesn’t seem very romantic to me.”

“Well, I’m here with you,” Dolley says, “and you offered to celebrate Valentine’s Day with me, and you’re clearly making an effort - you bought me a milkshake - so you’re already doing great. Please know that you do not have to fit the aesthetic to make me happy.”

James hesitates, “Do you like that aesthetic, though?”

Dolley frowns, “What?”

“Like, would you like to go on a Hallmark movie date?” he asks, “just, like, for future reference?”

Dolley thinks about it, “Well, I do not like do not like fancy restaurants. They’re too expensive. And I would prefer if you didn’t go out of your way and embarrass yourself to do something cheesy. I promise I’m perfectly happy eating pasta out of a plastic container with a plastic fork.”

James still hesitates, “Are you sure?”

“I am positive.” Dolley says.

James moves the food to the dining table and they sit next to each other quietly; he opens both the containers and rips the tops off, tucking them underneath and sliding Dolley’s in front of her, “I’m sorry,” he says, again, “I didn’t know what kind of pasta you liked and it was so last minute I didn’t want you to think I hadn’t been planning it,” he pauses again, wincing slightly, “which is a stupid thing to have worried about because I already told you I just bought this and now I realize I should have just asked you but my plan was to put it into a pot and then make you  _ think  _ that I had made it myself but I didn’t have a pot big enough and now you know that I am a fraud.”

Dolley places a hand on his wrist and he stops, finally looking at her; she’s smiling at him. He takes a breath, then says, “Basically what I’m trying to say is I didn’t know if you liked white or red sauce so I gambled and got you red.”

“Red sauce is my favorite.” Dolley lies. 

James smiles a little bit, obviously relieved; he rubs his eyes then looks back at her, “I’m sorry I’m such a mess.”

“That’s like the fifth time you’ve apologized to me,” Dolley comments.

“I’m just - very nervous.” James says, “I’ve never really celebrated Valentine’s Day with anyone but myself.” he seems to regret saying that immediately, “that came out wrong - it sounded really inappropriate. I’ve never spent a Valentine’s Day touching myself.” he winces again, “Oh god, I’m so sorry.”

“James,” Dolley says gently; she puts her hand back on his wrist and he looks back to her. She’s clearly trying not to laugh, “It’s okay.”

“Is it?” James asks, “We’re eating pasta with plastic forks and I just told you,” he pauses, “ _ that.” _

“James,” Dolley says seriously, though she’s still smiling, “you’re a sweetheart. And you’ve done nothing wrong. I can assure you I’ve had worse Valentine’s Days.”

“Somehow I doubt that.” James says, “you’re an angel and I’m sure you can be treated better. I haven’t even asked you to actually be my Valentine.”

Dolley can feel her face burning; she’s quiet for a moment, then she says, “Nobody has ever asked me that.”

James frowns, “Really?” Dolley nods, and he looks almost panicked, “Oh. Well. Um. Will you? Be? My Valentine?”

Dolley beams at him, “Yes, of course.”

“Oh, great.” James says, clearly relieved, and Dolley frowns.

“Did you think I was going to say no?” she asks.

“I don’t know?” James says, “with the way this is going, maybe?”

“You’re my boyfriend.” Dolley says, and those words make James’ heart beat a little faster, “And either way, James, I’m having a wonderful time spending time with you. You know I don’t care what the silverware is made of or what I’m eating pasta out of.”

“I just worry,” James says, “I doubt you’ve actually had a worse Valentine’s Day.”

“I’ve had a boyfriend straight up refuse to celebrate it with me,” Dolley says, “and you just  _ asked  _ me to be your Valentine, which is something only old people do and it was the sweetest thing in the world.”

“I just - I mean - I didn’t want to assume - ” he pauses, very hesitant, “even though you’re my… girlfriend, I did want - I mean - I wanted to ask.”

“James,” Dolley says sweetly, “you’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met, and you’re adorable, but if you keep worrying about how good you’re doing, your pasta is going to get cold. So let me just say that you’re wonderful, and please believe me.”

James blushes, “Okay.” he says, picking his plastic fork up, “I really like you Dolley.” he says after a moment, looking at her sincerely.

She smiles at him as she’s unwrapping her silverware, “I really like you, too, James.”

They eat mostly in silence, but it’s not uncomfortable at all. When James finishes his pasta, Dolley wipes her hands on her napkin and reaches across the table, sliding the box she’d brought in with her earlier over to them and then pushes it towards James. She gives him a look of anticipation, and he sets his fork down and slides his food over to the side.

“I still feel bad I didn’t get you a gift.” he says, “and that I forgot to even ask if that was happening.”

“You did get me a gift.” Dolley reminds him, holding up her milkshake, which by now is about half empty but also becoming lukewarm because she doesn’t eat or drink very quickly.

James shrugs, “A milkshake isn’t really a gift.” he says.

“It is when I’ve never had one.” Dolley insists, “and you also bought me food.”

“Yeah well you bought me,” James pauses, “whatever is in this box.”

“Maybe you should open it and find out.” Dolley says affectionately.

James unties the simple bow that’s keeping the lid tied down and holds up the card, “Should I read this now.”

Dolley hesitates, “No, I’ll get embarrassed.”

“Then I probably will, too.” James says, setting it to the side, “looking forward to it.”

He slides the lid off the box and inside taking up half of the container is another - a metal tin decorated to match the box. Sitting next to it folded very neatly is a yellow sweater. James pulls it out and unfolds it; it looks like it will fit him perfectly. The only thing he worries about is it will likely be the only brightly colored thing hanging in his closet.

Dolley is apparently a mind reader, because she immediately says, “I know you normally wear darker colors, but I saw this and I thought it would look really nice on you.” she pauses, “it’s okay if you don’t like it. I can take it back and get you something darker. Like a navy blue? Or just black? I just thought that yellow would look really good on you.” she pauses again, “please tell me if you don’t like it.”

“I do like it.” James says, folding it again - albeit not as nicely as it had been in the box - and setting it down on the table. “Although you are right and I do normally wear dark colors. That being said I can’t guarantee this will get worn around  _ people.  _ But I can guarantee that it will be worn.”

Dolley smiles at him, and James pulls the tin out of the box and opens it to reveal a pile of chocolate chip cookies that has clearly been very meticulously arranged. James takes the lid all the way off and sets it on the table a bit hurriedly, “Oh my god, did you make these?” he asks.

“Yes.” is all Dolley says, watching him pick one off the top of the pile and take a bite.

He all but moans, “Holy shit,” he says, “you really made these?”

“Yes.” Dolley says again, blushing.

“How?” James asks, “they’re so soft. Like the ones you buy at the store. What did you use?”

“I made them from scratch.” Dolley says, and James gives her a look that makes her blush even harder, “I spent like an hour looking for a recipe I liked. Are they good? I ate one to try it but I don’t really trust my own opinion.”

“This,” James says, “is amazing. How did you learn to do this?”

“Well I cooked every night from the time I was twelve until I went to college.” Dolley says casually, “so I guess baking was easy in comparison to the kind of food my mom taught me how to make.” she pauses, “do you really like them?”

“I love them.” James says, “I’m probably going to eat them all in one sitting like the gremlin I am.”

That makes Dolley laugh, which makes him smile. He finishes the cookie he’s already taken a bite of and closes the tin so he’s not tempted until after she leaves. He puts the tin back in the box with the sweater and closes it; Dolley leaves him alone for a moment because she wants to throw their trash away herself

James considers peaking at the card, but he figures he wouldn’t have enough time to get a feel for what she’s trying to say before she comes back. He also knows he would definitely get embarrassed, and then she’d get embarrassed, and that would make the rest of the night awkward. James is  _ hoping  _ for a rest of the night anyways.

His anxiety over getting the food was only part of the reason he’d spent so long actually putting it off. If he’s being honest, that’s his excuse. The main reason he’d forgotten to ask her if they were doing gifts and if she’d actually be his Valentine and about what kind of pasta she liked and had even neglected to think about getting her a proper gift was because after he asked her to come to his house for Valentine’s day, he’d spent the next week and a half wondering how he could ask her to spend the night in a way that didn’t make it seem sexual.

James had had a similar problem the first time he’d asked her to come over to his apartment. He loved being with her in general, but after the first few times they had gone out on actual dates he’d struggled to tell her he wanted to be alone with her. Dates were nice, but going out and being around people was always an ordeal, even when he was spending time with Dolley. There was only so much he could do around other people while staying casual even though the only thing he wanted to do was kiss the girl he was with. Kissing Dolley in general was hard enough; it only made it more difficult when he felt like they had an audience who would hate them if they did it too many times.

He’d spent about the same amount of time then agonizing over how to invite Dolley up to his apartment after a date without making it sound like he wanted to have sex. He was worried every variation of asking her to come upstairs with him would be mistaken as a euphemism, and then she would have expectations that he most certainly would not be able to meet, especially only a few weeks into the relationship. It had finally taken him explaining with what can only be called word vomit to her that of course he liked her and he would probably be ready for that eventually, but one month was way too soon and he just wanted to be able to talk to her without an audience. Dolley had, of course, not thought it was that big of a deal if he just wanted to be alone with her. Once he wasn’t worrying about it anymore, James figured it wasn’t too big of a deal after all, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to make a big deal out of this.

Dolley sits back down at the table with him, yanking him from his train of thought, and she smiles at him. He tries to smile back, but he worries it looks more like a wince. 

“Are you okay?” she asks, and he winces for real.

“I’m fine.” James says, “I’m just - thinking about something I want to ask you.”

“You should ask me.” Dolley says, and James knew that was exactly the kind of response he would get from saying that.

He takes a moment, then says, “I was wondering if you would like to spend the night?” he rushes forward, then, nervous, “not like that though - I mean that we just - like - we sleep together?” he catches himself, “I mean - no - that’s not what I mean at all. I mean like - we share a bed. But we can still touch each other - but - no - that’s not what I mean either.”

James takes a breath then tries again, “I would like you to stay here because I want to… cuddle? With you? While we both sleep in the same bed but we don’t have sex because I’m not ready for that.”

A soft smile returns to Dolley’s face, “I would love that.” she says.

James sighs with relief, “Okay.” he says, “I’m sorry - ”

“You are a mess but you’re a cute mess.” Dolley says quickly, “do you want to go sit on the couch and make out?”

James blushes, smiling, “Yeah.”


End file.
